Aquarium
by skag trendy
Summary: The boys and Bobby land a job at a newly opened aquatic zoo, where the keepers are mysteriously drowning. But the friction between the brothers forces Sam to make a decision that ultimately puts his life in danger. Can Dean get to him in time?
1. Chapter 1

**Aquarium**

**Part 1**

_**On call again. More gratuitous Sam Whumpage.**_

_**Set just after ELAC.**_

_**I must apologise to Sendintheclowns; I was half way through writing this story when I came across your post ELAC fic.**_

_**And so I thought to myself: **_

"_**I could abandon mine. That would be the decent thing to do". **_

_**Then I thought,**_

"_**Ah bollocks to it. I'll just dedicate it to her; she's bound to forgive me eventually!"**_

_**So here you are gal…this is for you!**_

**The boys and Bobby land a job at a newly opened aquatic zoo, where the keepers are mysteriously drowning.**

**But the friction between the brothers forces Sam to make a decision that ultimately puts his life in danger.**

**Can Dean get to him in time?**

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

"So what's the story?" Dean chewed on a piece of bacon, barely sparing his brother a glance as he flipped through a magazine.

"Bobby's already on his way out there, but thought he might need some help with this one." Sam opened his lap top and started typing. "A new marine centre opened up a few weeks ago, but some of the staff drowned under mysterious circumstances."

Dean did look up on hearing that. "Mysterious how?"

"Whenever the main display tanks need to be cleaned they empty the water out, whilst the dolphins, penguins, whales, etc. are kept in other pens out back." Sam turned the laptop round so Dean could read the article for himself, but when Dean just waved him on, he continued. "The keepers have been found dead in these empty display tanks, and post mortem examinations conclude that they drowned."

Dean raised his eyebrows "Huh. That definitely sounds like one for us."

"Yeah." Sam continued reading the email sent from Bobby earlier that day. "Rumours are that before all these deaths, someone took their own life in one of the tanks though the 

company that owns the complex won't admit to anything. But a few weeks back the building was shut down for the day so that all the staff could attend a funeral at a local crematorium."

"So if that's our guy then a salt and burn aint on the agenda." Dean queried.

"Exactly. Which means this place warrants a visit." Sam shut down the laptop as Dean cleaned his plate. "Something else is keepin' 'im there. And seeing as we can't exactly burn down the building…"

Dean nodded. "A banishing ritual it is then. Just so long as we find the right tank before confrontin' his ghostly ass."

_**Back on the road…**_

Sam stared out the passenger window of yet another one of Bobby's crap heaps. The Impala was still out of action after the 'accident', and Dean was impatiently waiting on a spare part. Sam hadn't asked partly because he knew jack shit about cars and wouldn't have understood anyway, but mostly because Dean hadn't really spoken to him since he'd taken a crow bar to his baby. Apart from discussing the odd case, the boys just weren't talking. Not that Sam hadn't tried to re-establish communications with his brother; he needed to talk things through even if Dean didn't. And despite the hurtful words Dean had thrown at him during the 'clown hunt', as Sam now referred to it, he still trusted his older brother to watch out for him, to help him.

Sam had tried to apologise but that only made matters worse, leading to the new vent holes in the trunk of the Impala. It seemed that Dean was blinded by his own grief for their dad, and had no time for Sam. So the only thing he could do was try to be there for his big brother, in the same way Dean had been there for him when Jessica had burned alive on his bedroom ceiling.

But his brother had been particularly silent today of all days, and whenever he spoke to Sam it was to snap at him, his remarks cutting and obtuse. And Sam knew why. Tomorrow would have been their father's birthday.

Glancing across the seat at Dean, Sam knew it was stupid to even try, but he was determined; he wasn't giving up on Dean. _Ever._

"Hey Dean," Sam hated that he sounded like Oliver Twist…_Please sir, may I have some more…_and knew it was a sure fire way to get Dean's hackles up. "I was thinking," Sam worriedly observed Dean's jaw clenching tight. Oh yeah. Hackles definitely on the rise! "Why don't we do somethin' tomorrow night, take a break? Maybe sit around a camp fire, have a few beers…"

Sam was more than a little pleasantly surprised at the response.

"Sure. Sounds great." Dean went straight back to silent, brooding mode.

Warming to his subject by now, Sam turned in his seat, body tilted towards his brother. "Yeah. We could get Bobby to cook his famous hotdogs and chilli," was that a twitch of a smile? Yes! One corner of Dean's mouth was curling up, and for once it wasn't in a snarl.

But of course Sam had to go too far.

"And maybe he'll share some stories with us about Dad…" He was thrown forwards against the dashboard when Dean stomped on the brakes and swung the wheel hard over.

Sam rubbed the rapidly developing bruise on the side of his head and glared at his sibling, but Dean just stared ahead through the windshield. A dark silence descended on the car and Sam nearly bit his tongue in two trying to keep from saying anything else that might provoke the creature behind the wheel.

After a while Dean gave a tight nod, as if his point had been made, then gently stepped on the gas, and the car glided back onto the road.

Sam couldn't let it go.

"Dean…"

"Are you sure we're even going in the right direction for this aquarium? Seems like we've been on this fucking road for God damn hours!" Dean ground out; it was the longest sentence he'd uttered during the entire journey.

Sam turned back in his seat to watch the scenery flow past his window. It seemed that no matter what, he was just grating on Dean's nerves and he was starting to think Dean no longer wanted him around. As soon as this hunt was over Sam was going to make sure his big brother got some alone time.

The rest of the journey passed in silence with both boys staring moodily out the windows.

After about two hours of the oppressive atmosphere, the aquarium came into view, with Bobby leaning against his truck, arms folded and ankles crossed.

Sam kept his sigh of relief as quiet as possible as he leapt out the car, and shook hands with the grizzled hunter.

"What took you boys so long? I bin waiting over an hour." Bobby grinned, but his smile soon faded when his picked up on the vibes.

"We had some trouble. It seems my little brother here still hasn't learned when to keep his trap shut." Whilst Dean stared Bobby straight in the eye, Sam avoided his gaze.

_These two bin at each other's throats again?! I swear ta god if they don't stop this crap I'm gonna kick __**both**__ their asses!_

Dean jerked his chin the direction of the building. "Where do we start?"

"I'm gonna check all the exits, make sure the building's secure. Don't want anybody surprisin' us tonight." Bobby tipped his hat and headed off without another word.

When Sam turned back, Dean already had his head buried in the trunk.

"Here." Sam barely managed to catch the sawn-off thrown his way, or the rock salt cartridges that followed. Having retrieved his own weapon of choice, the Glock 17, Dean slammed the lid of the trunk and stomped off towards the building.

"Keep ya eyes peeled and ya ears open," Dean called over his shoulder. "I don't wanna have to rescue your sorry ass!"

Now it was Sam's turn to clench his jaw. It appeared that his brother couldn't even be civil towards him on a hunt anymore.

As they were breaking into the building via one of the basement windows, Sam had come to a decision. _Maybe Dean would prefer to be on his own for this hunt; perhaps that 'alone time' is needed sooner rather than later._

"Uh Dean?"

Dean turned to face him, eyebrows raised enquiringly.

"Maybe one of us should go check the employee's records, see if there's any more info on our guy." Sam shifted from foot to foot a little nervously under that stare. It wasn't hostile, just the opposite: completely blank. And that worried Sam more than anything; it was a definite sign that he was losing his brother.

Dean smirked humourlessly "Whatever." Then headed off towards the offices, leaving Sam feeling more and more like a spare part than a brother.

"I'll just check the display tanks for EMF readings." Sam called out, but Dean had already disappeared. Huffing and trying to ignore the increasing despair that stalked him, Sam turned and followed the staircase up to the tanks. All three hunters had checked the blue prints of the building and had a pretty good idea of the lay out.

Sam decided to start checking the smaller tanks but soon drew some major blanks all round. But as he came to the main tank the EMF meter began to stir. All the other tanks had been 

empty but this one had a small pool of water in the centre. Sam marvelled at the size of the thing as he stared through the glass walls.

Climbing up onto the walkway, Sam made for the entrance; a huge heavy duty affair which when shut separated the occupants of the tank from the outside world with four feet of solid steel. It had hinges the size of an elephant's foot with the bolts to match. Sam got the distinct impression that when this door was closed, locked and sealed, no one was getting in.

Or out.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

Dean hadn't even stopped to see if Sam was following him as he left the basement. He was pretty pissed at Sam right now and frankly relished a few minutes of space. Dean acknowledged that it wasn't entirely his little brother's fault, but the constant clinging, and needing to 'talk' about their dad was driving him insane. Plus Sam had been having nightmares again, but Dean was struggling to sympathise this time round. In a way, Dean supposed it wouldn't be a stretch to suggest that Sam deserved a few nightmares, considering the way he'd left things with their father.

Ok, so that was a bit harsh. But it was keeping Dean awake at night as it was, and the last thing he needed to cart around on top of everything else was a little brother with a heavy guilt complex.

Especially given the burden John had placed on Dean's shoulders already, just moments before he died.

Shrugging off the cold chill that suddenly worked its way up his spine, Dean broke into the offices and started rooting through the filing cabinets.

"Yahtzee!" Dean grinned as he found what he was looking for. After having read through the file he was more convinced than ever that this was their guy.

He flipped open his phone and tried to call Sam, but it went straight to voice mail. Frowning, Dean tried again with the same result.

"Damnit!" He tried calling Bobby, who picked up after the first ring.

"_You boys ok_?"

"Yeah, Sam's checking the tanks for EMF activity, but I found somethin' in the records. A guy called Keith Davies was fired from here a few weeks ago, after he was caught with his hands in the cash register. He committed suicide the next day by drowning himself in one of the tanks."

"_Any idea which one_?"

"Doesn't say, but they must've kept it pretty quiet 'cos some of this shit wasn't even mentioned in the news reports."

"_Damn fools are more worried about the aquarium's reputation than human safety!_"

"Aint that always the case?"

Bobby huffed with laughter. "_Yeah. Listen, I'm gonna head on over to the main tank, meet ya there in a few?"_

"Sure. If you get there before me? Make sure you kick my brother's dumb ass for switchin' his damn phone off would ya?"

"_Dean? Sam knows better than that. Give 'im some credit. If he aint answerin' his phone then maybe it's busted._"

"Then he needs to look after it a little better. I aint buyin' him a new one!"

Bobby didn't know what to say to that. Dean was determined to give his brother a hard time one way or another, and there was little Bobby could do about it. It wasn't his place.

"_I'll see ya there."_

"Sure." Dean flipped his phone shut, grabbed the file and exited the office.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

The EMF meter was ablaze with light when Sam reached out to grasp the handle, and the door unlatched and swung open by itself. Glancing down at the now silent EMF, he waited a few seconds to see what would happen. He was now at an impasse. The sensible thing to do was to call Dean, explain where he was and what had happened, but when he pulled out his cell phone it was dead. Not a single spark of life.

Which was rather worrying seeing as Sam had fully charged it up before they'd headed out a few hours ago.

He contemplated going in search of his brother, but quickly nixed that idea. Sam wasn't sure he could face Dean anyway right now, but having to explain that he picked up on some serious EMF readings at the main tank, the entrance to the tank opened by itself, and Sam…_didn't_ go in to investigate but instead went to tell his older brother…he didn't think he'd ever live it down.

Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, Sam stepped forward into the waiting tank. And immediately he was fully inside, two things happened.

The lights flared, lighting up the entire tank, from under the small pool of water right up to the top near the ceiling.

But the most disconcerting thing was the sound of the massive steel door slamming shut, the bolts sliding into place, and the hiss and click as the lock sealed itself. It was airtight.

Sam's eyes widened as he ran to the door and started hammering on it uselessly. His heart was pounding so hard he could almost hear it, as he yanked on the inside safety handle. Which didn't work.

_Some freakin' health and safety device_, Sam thought to himself angrily as he tried once more, yanking on the release handle until he nearly dislocated his shoulder. Quickly giving up, Sam glanced around him desperately searching for something, _anything_ that could get that damn door open. But the tank was completely bare.

A noise behind him caught his attention, and he slowly turned and stared at the pool of water on the floor.

It was bubbling away merrily to itself.

It was also growing rapidly, and in no time Sam was ankle deep in cold water.

Trying his best not to panic but failing miserably, Sam splashed his way over to the main display window and started pounding on the glass.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

Dean tried his brother's cell once more but only got to voice mail again.

He was starting to get worried now. He'd been down here for about ten minutes calling out for Sam and getting no answer. He'd already checked three of the side tanks but still there was no sign of his lanky giant of a brother.

"Sam? You down here?" Dean carried on shouting, hoping for a response.

"Dean?" Bobby rounded a concrete pillar. "I take it you aint found 'im yet."

Dean gave a sharp shake of his head. "Just one tank left to try."

"Let's go." With Bobby leading the way, the two men headed towards the main display tank.

Dean felt a cold dread growing in the pit of his stomach, which suddenly exploded into full blown horror when they found the main tank.

Sam was clearly trapped inside and thumping on the glass, but what galvanised Dean and Bobby into action was the fact that he was waist deep in water.

And the water level was rising with frightening speed.

"Shit! Sammy!" Dean screamed out as he and Bobby tried their best to shift the massive bolts on the door and release the airlock. But it wouldn't budge.

In fact, it felt as though several pounds of Semtex would struggle to open it.

Dean grabbed a nearby fire axe from the wall and started attacking the glass itself, but it just bounced off harmlessly, not so much as leaving a scratch.

Though they couldn't hear him, Sam was obviously terrified and shouting for help as he was lifted off his feet by the steadily rising levels. Treading water, Sam appeared to glance up at the ceiling, and then started pointing frantically, his mouth working soundlessly through the thick glass.

Just before the water completely covered the basement level of the tank, Dean caught sight of what Sam was trying to tell him.

There was some metal grating on the high ceiling. If that could be removed then once the water level was high enough Sam could get out. It was a hellish risky plan; Dean didn't like it one bit but it was all they had.

"Bobby come on! Up to the next level!"

Bobby followed Dean up into what must have been the seating area for the audience, and they both glanced at the tank to find Sam still treading water, scared eyes searching for his brother.

Bobby got to work trying to find the service stairs used by the maintenance crew; it would lead to the dry rooms where most of the cleaning equipment was kept, and hopefully to the grate in the ceiling. He left Dean to comfort his brother.

Once Sam spotted Dean, some of the panic left his face and he reached out a hand, pressing the palm against the glass.

Dean understood and did the same with his own hand, covering Sam's. He could almost feel Sam's fear. His little brother knew the risks and needed reassurance; for the first time in weeks Dean was more than prepared to supply it.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

Sam was tiring in his efforts to keep his head above water. His hand still pressed against the glass, it was as though he could feel his brother's warmth. Dean appeared calm, but Sam stared deep into his eyes and saw his own panic reflected back at him.

Weeks of not having slept or eaten properly were catching up with him and he suddenly slipped under, choking on a large mouthful of water.

Dean was hammering on the glass, eyes round with fear until Sam was able to kick his way back up. The ceiling looked deceptively far over head in spite of how fast the water was rising up the tank.

Sam wasn't sure how long he could keep this up but he hoped and prayed it was enough for him to reach the metal grate.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

"Dean! Over here!" Dean glanced over to find Bobby picking the lock of a wooden door with the words 'Private. Access to public prohibited' emblazoned across it.

Dean turned back to the glass one last time and raised a finger, pointing at the ceiling.

Sam just about managed to nod, but Dean could see the effort it was costing him to remain afloat.

_Don't give up on me Sammy!_ Dean mouthed to him, hoping he understood.

Sam gave him a thumbs up and a weary smile.

Dean hated having to leave him but had no choice; Bobby needed help getting that grate open.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

Scrambling to the top of the stairwell, Bobby and Dean raced over to the grating. They peered through it and immediately spotted Sam.

"Hey! Need a hand there little bro?" Dean grinned through the mesh as Sam glanced up and smiled back tiredly.

"That would be great. I'm starting to wrinkle here!" He called back.

"We'll soon getcha outta there Sammy." Dean fervently hoped so, and frowned when Bobby struggled a little with the screws holding the grate in place. "What's taking so long?" He whispered sharply, not wanting Sam to worry anymore than necessary.

"Damn things are wedged tight. It's like someone's cross-threaded 'em."

"Shit." Dean muttered then began work on the opposite screw from Bobby.

He looked down through the grating; the water level was fast approaching and Sam didn't have long to go. A couple of feet at best, if Dean was any judge.

But the grate just wouldn't budge, and Bobby was fast coming to realise that it wasn't just a simple case of cross-threaded screws.

"Hurry Dean!" Sam was right up to the grate, and the water level had reached his chin.

"Keep your mouth close to the grate Sam!" Dean yelled, but Sam's ears were already filled with water, his head bent awkwardly backwards as he desperately tried to suck in the last available air. Sam was clinging onto the grate, his long fingers poking through the mesh.

"De…" Sam choked as a wash of water passed over his face, flooding his throat.

"Sammy!" Dean gripped at Sam's fingers, as if keeping hold of him would keep him alive. But as the water level rose and covered Sam's mouth and nose one final time, Dean felt terror slam through him and his eyes welled with tears. Sam's grip on the mesh, and his brother's fingers, was gradually giving way. "No! You hold on you hear me? Sam!"

"Damnit!" Bobby pulled a metal flask from his jacket pocket, and in one smooth motion tipped the contents onto each screw in the grate. There was a fizzing and bubbling for a few seconds as the holy water worked on the invisible force holding the grate down, then Bobby was wrenching open the grate, lifting it up on its hinges whilst Dean reached down and grasped onto Sam's wrist before he could slip away.

Bobby let the grate drop backwards and helped Dean pull his brother up out of the water.

Sam started gasping and coughing as he shot up and regurgitated tank water.

"Ugh! Man that is rank!" He complained as Dean rubbed his back.

"What's it taste like?" Sam could hear the grin in his brother's voice even if he was in no condition to look up and see it right now.

A few more bouts of projectile vomiting and Sam was able to answer. "Mostly salt, but there's the distinct taste of fish!" He grimaced, then leaned over and spat more water back into the tank.

"Well that will teach ya to go into a dangerous situation without back up!" Dean clipped his brother lightly round the back of the head. "What the hell were ya thinkin' Sam!"

_Uh oh,_ thought Sam. _We've had the relief, now here comes the anger._

But he didn't get a chance to answer. Before Dean could yell at him some more, the metal grate suddenly flew up with an excessive amount of force and crashed into the back of Sam's head. He was unconscious instantly, and fell back into the water before Dean could grab him, and metal grate once again covered the gap.

"Sammy!" Dean managed to scream out before raising the grate and jumping in after his brother. He was horrified at the amount of blood; he knew that head wounds had a tendency to bleed profusely, but this was out of hand. There was so much of it that it took Dean way too long to find Sam. But eventually there he was, floating suspended in the reddening water, unnervingly still.

Dean kicked hard and within a few heart beats, _Sam's heart beats_, he was wrapping an arm round Sam's waist and dragging him upwards. Pretty soon he could make out the anxious face of Bobby Singer, and as he broke the surface he pushed Sam out ahead of him.

Bobby laid Sam out on the floor and started checking his pulse and breathing, as Dean hauled himself out of the water.

"Bobby, get started on the banishing ritual. This bastard's set his sights on Sam and he won't give up 'til he's dead." Dean was already tilting his brother's head back.

Bobby nodded quickly. "You better get started on CPR. He aint breathin' and I can't find a heart beat!"

Dean covered Sam's mouth with his own and breathed long and deep for him; once more and he started massaging Sam's heart. He barely paid any heed to Bobby's voice as the ritual progressed, but Dean could feel the angry spirit as it whirled around the room, trying to find an escape. The metal grate rattled but Bobby stomped down on it with his foot, which seemed to make the spirit of Keith Davies even angrier.

"Sammy come on!" Dean ground out between breaths, " Fight!"

The ritual was soon completed, and the room went silent and still, except for Dean trying to save his brother's life.

"I said FIGHT GODAMN YOU!" Dean kept on, refusing to give up. "I'm not losing you, no way!"

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Author's notes:**_

So things look bad for our Sam, _very_ bad. Can Dean pull out all the stops and save him?

Or will Keith Davies have succeeded in claiming one final victim?

_**Only you can decide that...so start reviewing!**_

Kind regards,

ST.xxx.


	2. Chapter 2

**Aquarium Part 2**

_**The finale...will Sam survive?**_

Neither Dean nor Bobby noticed that the water level had shrunk back down, and once again barely covered the floor of the tank. They were way too busy.

"Dean let me help, you're exhausted!" Bobby shoved Dean to one side and took over the chest compressions, whilst Dean breathed for his brother between each set.

Minutes seemed to stretch into hours and Dean could almost hear the clock ticking. Sam's time was running out. When nothing happened and Sam remained unresponsive, Dean began to lose heart.

"No. This can't be happening, this can't be real. I _can't_ lose you Sam." His little brother was depending on him to save his life, and Dean was failing him. A sudden burst of anger erupted inside him, and all the sad excuses that passed for conversations with Sam from the last few weeks raced through his head. All those hurtful words, the cold shoulders, the silent treatment…all he'd subjected his brother to.

It was enough to tip him over the edge.

"No way. Not now. You're coming back whether you want to or NOT!" Dean finished his rant on an anguished roar and pushed Bobby's hands away, taking back full control of CPR, practically pounding on Sam's chest, tears streaming unchecked down his face.

Sam's body suddenly lurched and water once again gushed out of his mouth. Dean flipped him onto his side supporting his head with one hand, whilst the other worked frantically to thump his back.

"That's it Sam! That's m'boy!" Dean watched in fearful fascination as blood continued to spill from the nasty looking gash in the back of Sam's head, trailing away into the water tank like a crimson snake. _There's just so damn much of it!_

As the last of the gasps and choking died away, Dean opened Sam's mouth, relieved to feel light warm puffs of air on his hand. His brother was still unconscious, but at least he was alive. For now.

"That's good Sammy." He whispered. "Just keep breathing for me ok? We're gonna get you some help."

"Come on. Let's get him to a hospital." Ordered Bobby, and he moved to pick up the weapons, shoving them into his coat pockets as best he could. As Dean gathered Sam into his arms, Bobby grabbed his legs and between them they managed to lift him up from the cold wet floor.

They moved as fast as they could back down to the basement, then out into the cool night air.

"Get in back of my truck and keep checking on his breathin'" Bobby helped Dean slide his brother into the back seat then jumped in behind the wheel. The engine started first time and the truck took off in search of the nearest medical facility.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

__

Dean couldn't take his eyes off Sam the entire journey. He watched for signs that his brother was coming round and grew desperate when it didn't happen. If anything, Sam's breathing became weaker, the rise and fall of his chest less frequent. Dean knew things were getting really bad when the shuddering and shaking began, but hoped it was just down to being dumped in the cold water for so long

Sadly, the cold was the least of Sam's problems.

"Put your foot down!" Dean yelled out when Sam started full on convulsing. "No! Sammy come on, don't do this to me!" Dean held him tightly, feeling the violent jerks and tremors, forced to listen to the gasping, choking, and ragged, desperate attempts to breathe. Keeping Sam's arms pinned so it couldn't hurt himself, Dean once again felt the traitorous salt water tracks down his own face as he watched Sam's lips turn a horrifying shade of blue. "Sam no! Breathe for me, please Sammy, you have to breathe!"

"We're almost there!" Bobby screeched into the parking lot of the local hospital and slammed on the brakes. Leaping out, he left the driver's door open and ran into the ER, shouting for help.

"Sammy hold on!" Dean whispered frantically.

A second later he found himself surrounded by paramedics and doctors, and suddenly Sam was ripped out of his arms. Dean watched in despair as his little brother was loaded onto a gurney and rushed inside the building.

He looked down at his shirt. It _was_ his favourite shirt, but now it was ruined by the seemingly vast amounts of blood that had poured from his baby brother's head wound as he'd lain against Dean's chest during the race to the hospital.

Even if it could be saved, Dean didn't think he could bring himself to wear it again.

"I can't lose you." He whispered over and over to himself. "I can't lose you."

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

It was a full ten seconds before Dean even noticed the coffee cup being held out in front of him, and Bobby had to grip his shoulder to get his attention.

"Uh…thanks." His voice was dull and lifeless, rather like his little brother lying in the bed next to his chair.

The last twenty four hours had been the longest and toughest Dean and Bobby had ever known. Sam had been instantly rushed to a CT scan and from there into surgery; they'd attempted to repair a bad fracture to his skull, which was then followed by his doctor announcing that the extent of the head injury was so critical that Sam couldn't even breathe on his own. Things went from bad to worse when it became obvious that there was still water in Sam's lungs, and he'd almost suffered secondary drowning.

To top it off, severe cerebral oedema had set in causing a rise in intracranial pressure, and if it didn't ease up soon…

Dean began to feel sick just thinking about it.

In short, things were looking pretty bad for Sam, and his chances of survival were growing increasingly grim the longer he remained unconscious.

"Dean." Bobby's voice finally filtered through to him. "Sam's strong. You know he'll pull through. Right?"

Dean blinked then turned to face him.

"Yeah. 'Course he will. He's just…." The doctor's words kept repeating in his head, along with Sam's.

_Your brother is deeply unconscious…_

_**Why are you saying this to me?**_

_**Because I want you to be honest with yourself...**_

_His chances aren't good…_

_**...too little, too late...**_

_**I'm not all right...but neither are you.**_

_I should warn you; he could go at any moment. I'm so very sorry..._

Dean could see Sam's hurt gaze in his mind, could feel his little brother reaching out to him.

Swallowing hard Dean tried again. "He's just resting. He's tired and not been sleeping well lately." _And little wonder with all the shit I've given him!_

_Oh God! Sammy please don't die!_

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

Dean had resisted all of Bobby's attempts to get him to move from Sam's bedside. Even when he announced having booked them into a motel down the road, complete with the promise of a long hot shower and a change of clothes, Dean still wouldn't back down.

So the medical staff had to get used to Sam's older brother haunting the ICU.

Bobby brought him food as well as coffee, and although he forced himself to eat he couldn't really taste it. He was only eating to keep his strength up.

But every time he stared at Sam's pale silent form, he came close to bringing it all straight back up again.

The respirator unnerved him. It was the only thing keeping his brother alive and every so often it seemed to Dean as though there was a slight hitch, a slight delay before the next breath. It taunted him to the point where he thought he was going out of his mind.

_Was Sam even here anymore? Is it still him?_

Sam's lips, from what Dean could see round the ET tube holder in his mouth, were virtually bloodless. The lack of colour overall was another thing that freaked him out. Sam usually sported a slight tan, even when he was at his most tired. But not now.

The thick bandaging round Sam's head should've looked comical, but Dean was in no mood to laugh. Sometimes, on waking up in the middle of the night, he thought he heard Sam speak to him, but with the breathing tube wedged in his throat, that was impossible.

_Wasn't it?_

He wondered briefly if Sam was having an out of body experience, much like Dean had in hospital just after the semi hit them, and perhaps he could hear everything that was said in his presence.

So Dean filled in the days by talking to Sam, talking to Bobby when he dropped by, talking to Sam's doctors and nurses in the forlorn hope of receiving some good news. By night he slept in the chair by his brother's bed, feet up on the other seat normally used by Bobby during the day.

He sat through all the tests and monitoring, all the re-examinations, watching over Sam like a hawk. But as more time passed and Sam showed no signs of regaining consciousness, the doctors became less and less optimistic. Not that they'd held out much hope to start with.

"Ya know I guess it's true what they say, with turn about being fair play and all." Dean held one of Sam's hands in both of his, frowning a little at how cool his skin felt. As he continued talking he gently rubbed his hand, trying to warm it up. "I know you've been feeling bad about the things you said to Dad before he died." Dean let out a humourless laugh. "Thing is, most of it was probably true." He turned his gaze on Sam's face, noting how much thinner he'd become in just a few weeks. "And now I'm gonna be the one to feel guilty, at letting you down when you needed me. Those things I said to ya Sammy…they _weren't _true, ok? I was just hitting out. Angry. Angry as _hell_. You were the closest target, _and I know it wasn't fair_. Truth is I'm not as strong as you Sam. I won't be able to live with the guilt, of knowing how much I hurt you, if you die….." Leaning into his little brother's ear, he whispered "So please, don't make me do it Sammy. Don't leave."

A light squeeze on his hand and Dean shot straight up in his seat, eyes wide with hope. "Sam? You with me bro?"

There it was again, a little stronger this time.

For the first time in days Dean actually smiled, and if his eyes watered a little, well that was just because he was tired. No other reason.

"Try it one more time Sam. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me." When the pressure on his hand came again, Dean was full on grinning from ear to ear. In fact he didn't stop grinning as he pressed the call button.

Sam's face was still pale and his eyes were firmly closed.

_But he can hear me!_

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

"I heard the good news." Bobby poked his head round the door.

Dean smiled up at him, motioned for him come inside, not that Bobby ever needed an invitation, and signalled that he should keep his voice down.

Bobby stood over Sam and nodded approvingly. His colour was improving, and even though he was still on the respirator he was definitely looking more alive and less like a corpse.

"So he's really startin' to wake up." Bobby shook his head. "I told ya!"

"Yeah, though he _is_ being his typical stubborn ass self and takin' his sweet time about it." But there was no real heat to Dean's words. He was just glad things were finally looking up.

"What's his doctor say?" Bobby asked as he sat down.

Dean put aside the car magazine he'd been reading to Sam, and leaned forward in his seat. "He's not outta the woods yet. Although his intra…thingimejig pressure is still a little high and it could be anything from a few days to a few weeks...he'll get there." He reached out and gently grasped Sam's hand. "Hey Sammy, guess who's here to see ya?"

Bobby held Sam's other hand and smiled gruffly when he felt a slight pressure against his fingers. "That's it kid; you just keep on fightin' for your brother. And when you wake up maybe he'll finally stop torturing everyone on the unit and go take a shower. Or at least a change of clothes!"

"Hey!" Dean admonished softly, but chuckled just the same. "The ward staff let me use the shower in Sam's bathroom, and I changed into the clothes you brought by!"

They fell silent until Dean couldn't hold it back anymore.

"I've been a real asshole to Sam."

Bobby nodded, then smiled. "Yep. I aint gonna deny that. But you've been through a hell of a time, so don't be so hard on yaself. Sam won't. I can pretty much promise you that."

They talked a while longer before official visiting hours were over and Bobby had to leave, but Dean of course continued to be the exception to that rule.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

Dean was feeling pretty good these days and as he made his way back from the coffee machine, he finally started noticing how cute the nurses were. He even thought about seeing how many phone numbers he could get.

But as he passed the nurses' station he heard the flurry of panic up ahead. And it seemed to be coming from Sam's room. He started frowning, then started running.

_Nonononono! He was doin' so well!_

Dumping his untouched coffee in the nearest trashcan, he sped up until he was skidding to a halt in the doorway, grabbing desperately on to the frame.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He practically yelled out in fear.

Sam's doctor turned and smiled. "He's fine. I just removed the ET tube. He's breathing on his own now, though I think he panicked a little!"

Dean sagged against the doorframe, his knees threatening to give way and dump his ass unceremoniously on the floor. Instead he just about staggered over to Sam's bed and sank into his usual seat.

"Thank god…I thought…I…" words failed him as he stared at his brother. The respirator was indeed gone, replaced by a transparent tube running under his nose. "Sam, are you enjoying this? Watching me squirm?" Once the doctor had left in a whirl of reassurances, Dean rested his head against Sam's mattress and took a few deep breaths. Looking back up at his brother's peaceful face, he could swear Sam was actually laughing at him.

Dean scowled. "You're so lucky you aint outta danger yet little bro, or I'd be placing forks _and_ spoons in your mouth. Then I'll be the one godamn laughing as I post your photos on the internet!"

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

Dean cracked open an eye. He'd definitely felt Sam's hand move again. It was around three o'clock in the morning…_and wouldn't that be just plain typical for Sam to choose the most antisocial time possible to wake up? Little bastard!_

At night, Dean had always kept a firm grip on his little brother's hand just in case he woke up to find a snoring, drooling older brother sitting by his bed. But mainly, he just didn't want Sam to be scared when he eventually did decide to rejoin the world of the living.

"Sammy?" Dean called softly. "You wakin' up now?"

This time when he felt the faint squeeze it was accompanied by movement under Sam's eyelids.

"That's it Sam, come on back." Dean smiled when the eye movement sped up and finally….

….Dean could just about make out a glint of blue-green as Sam's eyes opened to small slits.

"Dean…" he whispered. "C…can you pl..please turn down the lights? It hurts…my eyes."

"Not a problem little bro," Dean whispered back and reached out to a dimmer switch on the wall, turning the lights down real low for Sam's sake, then he pressed the call button. "I'm under strict instructions to call a nurse the minute you wake up so they can check you over and give you something for the pain. But personally I think they just wanted to see which of us has the sexiest eyes." He gave a small shrug. "I win hands down of course."

Sam smiled faintly. "Yeah right."

Sam's voice was reed thin but at least he was awake, and talking. Though Dean doubted he'd stay awake for long.

A nurse bustled in, had Sam's doctor paged, and pretty soon the poor kid was being poked and prodded once again, though he didn't complain once, and after the pain meds had been administered Sam was drifting off.

He didn't wake up again until the following afternoon, and, as before, it was a slow process. The room faced south and Dean had the curtains already closed so it wouldn't hurt Sam's eyes.

"How ya feelin' Sam?" Dean brushed Sam's hair out of his eyes. It had become a habit since his brother was admitted to the ICU a few weeks ago, one he couldn't quite bring himself to kick. At least, not just yet.

Sam blinked slowly, his eyes still a little unfocused. "Thirsty." A straw was tucked into his mouth and he gratefully sucked up the cool liquid, draining the cup within seconds. "What happened back there?"

"What do you remember?" Dean asked softly, watching Sam with a good deal of concern.

"Not much. You got me out of the water…" His voice trailed off as he frowned and winced in pain.

"Take it easy dude. You still got a way to go." Dean refilled the cup from the water jug on the nightstand and let Sam drink a little more. "The spirit was Keith Davies, and he hadn't quite finished with you. He sent the grate back down on your head; damn near split your skull in two before knocking you back into the water." Dean watched as Sam turned his head slightly towards him. "You nearly didn't make it kiddo," he finished softly.

They stayed silent for a few moments, just staring at each other.

"Thanks."

Dean frowned. "What for?"

"I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you." Sam smiled sadly. "I'm sorry for screwing up so bad. I always was a pain in your ass, even when Dad…after he…" a small tear sneaked its way down the side of his face. He suddenly screwed his eyes shut as a wave of pain assaulted him, wreaking havoc.

"Sam?" Dean leaned closer as his brother let out a small whimper of distress. "Sammy, calm down ok? You can't afford to get worked up. Just breathe slowly."

When Sam opened his eyes again they were still laced with both physical and emotional pain. When he tried to speak he found it too hard, and he slumped miserably deeper into his pillows.

But that was ok. Because Dean was about to do all the talking for him.

He pretty much repeated everything he'd said to Sam over the weeks when he'd been comatose. Dean hadn't really planned on saying anything, but seeing how his little brother was hurting so badly, he felt it was high time silent-brooding-Dean was shelved for now, and finally let Sam know what he needed to hear.

The only part he left out was the burden his father had placed on him. Sam wasn't ready to hear that, and Dean wasn't yet ready to talk about it.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I had no right to say..." He glanced away for a second, trying to compose himself, but soon returned his gaze, locking eyes with Sam. He was determined to get this out. "I should never have shut you out. It didn't occur to me how much you needed to talk; I could see what it was doing to you but none of it seemed real." He shook his head, then stared hard at the floor. "I know I let you down, man. And I promise it won't happen again."

He felt rather than saw his brother slide his hand into his, and gave it the all too familiar squeeze.

"Dean, you never let me down. Not once in your whole life. You were hurtin' is all." Sam smiled a little when Dean raised his head again, then whispered "Now quit bein' a girl and get me some more water."

Dean snorted and re-filled the cup. "Yeah sure, little _sister_!"

"Bite me _Deana_!"

"Don't you go comparin' me to the ship's counsellor. I'm far prettier than that Star Trek bitch!"

Sam started laughing and winced. "You're such a jerk!"

"I guess that means someone's finally awake." A familiar figure stood in the doorway. "Been knocking for a damn lifetime and no one heard me."

Sam rolled his head slowly towards the newcomer and smiled lazily. "Hey Bobby."

"How ya doin' Sam?" Bobby smiled down at him.

Sam nodded. "M'ok."

He was starting to tire again and Dean noticed he was also still a little pale. "Why don't you get some rest dude? We can all talk later."

But his brother's eyes were already closing.

Dean and Bobby quietly moved out into the hallway.

"So how's he really doin'?" Bobby leaned against the wall.

"He's in a lot of pain, but I think he'll be ok." Dean shuffled his feet a little, almost nervously.

"Spit it out kid!"

"Uh…is it ok if Sam and I stay at your place for a while longer? Just until he's better. I don't think hittin' the roads' gonna be good for him. We won't get in your way and I'll help out round the yard…"

Bobby glared at him until Dean's voice trailed off nervously.

"You tryin' to insult me boy?" Bobby clamped a hand on Dean's shoulder and forced him down into a seat so he could loom over him threateningly. "Now you listen to me and you listen good. Firstly, you never had to ask and never will. Secondly, damn straight Sam isn't well enough to be travellin', and yeah, you'll help out round the place 'cos Sam won't be fit for researchin' and diggin' up hunts, and you need somethin' to keep ya outta trouble."

It was probably the longest speech anyone had ever heard from Bobby Singer. So Dean, feeling like a chastised school kid, made his _shortest_ speech ever.

"Ok."

Bobby's moustache twitched a little as he held back a smile. He was looking forward to having the boys around again, though he figured Sam was going to be a handful once he was up and about. He'd learned the hard way through the boys' father that you couldn't keep a Winchester down.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

"Dean you're cheating again."

"Am not."

"You're so obviously cheating. What did you do? Mark the cards?"

"I don't need to cheat. I am the master and you're just….you."

Sam threw him the bitchy little brother look. "Nice Dean. Taking advantage of your sick sibling. Real sporting."

"Hand on my heart Sammy; I wouldn't cheat my own brother." Dean actually had the nerve to look affronted. Sam started laughing which ended in a wince and a long drawn out yawn.

Dean couldn't help feeling concerned at the way Sam tired so easily, even though his doctor had assured them both it was to be expected after everything he'd been through. Sam's vast array of medications lay nearby as did his personal affects, and the man himself was just itching for his release papers.

Dean wasn't so sure that AMA was the way to go, and neither did his brother's doctor, but Sam was climbing the walls and threatening to walk out under his own steam if they didn't let him go soon.

"You boys ready?" Bobby strode in pushing a wheelchair.

Sam's face was a picture as he stared at the contraption. "No way! I'm not sitting in that thing!"

Dean immediately rounded on him, successfully hiding his laughter. "Oh yes you are. You sign yourself out against medical advice, and this is what you get. Now sit!"

Sam glared at him, eyes twitching, and Dean could almost hear the cogs turning in his brother's brain as Sam tried to work a way round this. But Dean stood back, feet shoulder width apart, folded his arms and narrowed his eyes in an expression that said quite clearly _just try me little brother, just try me!_

Sam still couldn't roll his eyes too well these days as it hurt his healing skull too much, but old habits die hard and he bit back a groan of pain when he sat in the wheelchair. As he was wheeled out into the hallway, Sam slouched lower in the seat trying to hide his face by resting his forehead in his hand. It didn't work, but that was because Dean insisted on stopping to chat with every pretty nurse he'd met since Sam's incarceration, and…..

_'incidentally, this is my little brother Sam. He got drunk and cracked his skull open before falling in the swimming pool'_...and Sam somehow managed to sink even lower in the chair.

If his rapidly developing headache didn't kill him, Sam was fairly certain, even hopeful that embarrassment would. But he wasn't going down without a fight; he was taking his big brother with him….

_'Dean? Could you get me some water? My head hurts; your snoring kept me awake most of the night, oh and dude? Next time you drool, could you please at least wipe it off the bed clothes when you wake up? I stuck my elbow in some this morning'_…

Now _Dean's_ face was a picture, and Bobby chuckled to himself at the evil grin on the younger brother's face.

Sam wasn't one hundred percent yet, but he was well on the way!

Both brothers had some healing to do but this time they stood a better chance.

This time they were a team.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

Bobby chucked some more wood on the fire then sat back and took a swig of beer. "Food's nearly ready boys."

Sam smiled, relaxing in the warmth. He knew he'd been over doing it lately, researching and trying to track down ol' Yellow Eyes. Dean had been working on the Impala whilst Bobby was out of town for a few days, so he had no idea what Sam was up to during the day.

But he soon found out.

Sam had been out of hospital for about a week but he still suffered from some pretty nasty headaches, and even passed out a few times. The first time had Dean going into major over-protective mode, and threatened to take him straight back to the hospital if it happened again. But then, Sam _had _been out for the best part of an hour, with Dean finding him on the kitchen floor, so he couldn't really blame him for worrying. Dean even confiscated the laptop, despite Sam promising he would take it easy and rest up some more.

The second time had been Dean's fault, though an honest mistake. The boys had been squabbling good-naturedly over the last piece of toast, when Sam reached out and snatched it from the plate. He shoved the whole slice forcefully into his mouth, chewed and swallowed before Dean could get it back. Without thinking, Dean had cuffed him lightly round the back of the head just before he turned and made his way back to the kitchen to fix some more toast, but the loud noise behind him had him spinning round to find Sam out cold. He'd passed out and crashed straight through Bobby's glass coffee table.

Fortunately he'd suffered no major injuries, just a few cuts and bruises, not to mention another nasty headache. Dean had become insufferable after that, his guilt driving him into over load until Sam had threatened to shoot out the brand new tires on the Impala if he didn't quit.

So Sam had been more than a little surprised when one evening Dean called him on his new cell – his old one having been completely destroyed at the aquarium – and asked him to meet up at the North end of Bobby's property, by the pond. Apparently he needed Sam's help with 

something, but when he got there Dean and Bobby already had a nice campfire going, cold beers nestled in a bucket of water, and the smell of hot dogs and chilli filled the air.

Bobby raised his beer. "To John."

Sam stiffened up and his gaze shot to Dean, who smiled sadly and returned the gesture.

"To you Dad. Happy belated birthday." Without giving Sam the chance to worry, he continued "So Bobby, tell us about you and Dad in the early years. What was it like training him?"

Bobby let out a bark of laughter. "He was a fast learner but stubborn as hell. Hated being proved wrong..."

"Sounds like someone else I know." Sam interrupted with a smirk.

"Hey!" Dean protested instantly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm just sayin'..."

"You boys wanna hear this or not?!" Bobby glared at them in mock anger.

Dean and Sam laughed and nodded apologetically.

Bobby stared into the flames and reminisced. "On his first salt and burn, your father dug up the wrong coffin, but the second one was worse. He fell in an empty grave and I had to go steal a ladder to get him out."

The boys stared at him in shock.

"He never told me that!" Dean started laughing. "What a klutz! I always wondered where Sam got it from!"

"Hey!" Sam scowled at his brother. "I am _not_ a klutz!"

"Oh you so _are_!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"_As I was sayin'...!_" Bobby was determined to put a stop to the bickering, no matter how much it amused him. "Your daddy made his share of mistakes. Like the first time he attempted Latin to banish a poltergeist? He came off sounding French, and bad French at that, which confused the hell out of the spirit let me tell you..."

Sam burst out laughing, wincing a little as his poor head protested against the harsh treatment.

"So let me get this straight," Dean choked out around his own laughter, "Dad tried for the catholic priest angle, but wound up sounding like Inspector Clouseau? Oh that is priceless!"

"Oh you think that's bad enough?" Bobby raised an eyebrow. "I've got a lot more where _those_ come from."

"When your Dad once investigated a barn haunting he fell outta the loft and into a big ol' heap o'cow dung..."

"I remember that night!" Dean exclaimed loudly. "When Dad came back he smelled so bad, I locked him outta the motel room. He had to borrow the managers hose pipe to get cleaned up before I'd let him in..."

Sam turned to him, surprise written all over his face. "You did that? _You_ defied our _Dad_?" He shook his head grinning. "Wonders will never cease!"

Settling back against the trunk of a fallen tree, Bobby carried on telling John's sons about his antics in the early years of hunting. His heart hadn't felt so light in years as he listened to their laughter.

Sure, they were still hurting over their father's death, but that they could smile again was a good sign.

Things were looking brighter each day.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

_**Author's notes:**_

Well that's it for this AU. It's been a lot of fun writing it...

Many thanks for the kind reviews.

Hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you think!

Kind regards,

ST.xxx.


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